


The Fine Art of Staying in Your Lane

by SilenceIsGolden15



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo 2k19 [19]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Burns, Exhaustion, Foster Kid Keith (Voltron), Friendship, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Prompt: Secret Revealed, Protective Shiro (Voltron), Scars, Secrets, Self-Esteem Issues, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24633109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceIsGolden15/pseuds/SilenceIsGolden15
Summary: Not everything is everyone else's business. (And yes, Lance, that does include you.)
Relationships: Keith & Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith & Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo 2k19 [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1554010
Comments: 14
Kudos: 401
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	The Fine Art of Staying in Your Lane

The setting sun bathed the desert cliffs in gold. A warm evening breeze ran through Shiro’s hair, more gently now that the hoverbikes had come to a stop. Their idling engines were just loud enough to drown out Keith’s panting-- he’d just pulled off the cliff trick dive for the first time, and he was still riding the adrenaline high even after their twenty minute ride up to their usual plateau. 

With a satisfied smile, Shiro turned off the engine on his bike and climbed off. Beside him Keith was doing the same, though for him and his short legs, it took a little more effort. 

“That was awesome!” Keith exclaimed, for once not waiting for Shiro to prod for an answer. 

Shiro grinned and pulled Keith into his side. His hoodie was still warm from the sun and coated in dust, but that didn’t matter when his jacket was much the same. 

“You did great, buddy. Not even any scratches or bruises.”

Keith was positively beaming. For a moment Shiro just drank it all in; he was tired, exhausted even, and the muscles in his right arm were feeling weak, but it was a good kind of exhausted. The satisfied kind. 

Feeling Keith shift under his arm, Shiro looked down at him. He was leaning back against Shiro’s hoverbike and pulling his goggles down to hang around his neck. He wiped sweat from his forehead, then absentmindedly pushed his hoodie sleeves up to his elbows. 

Something about the movement struck him, but it took Shiro a minute to realize why: this was the first time Keith had done that with him so close by, even when the temperature broke a hundred degrees. He might push the sleeves up when they rode the hovers, but he always pulled them down again after dismounting. 

It took him another minute to notice why Keith kept his sleeves down, and when he did he couldn’t halt his quick inhale. 

He knew Keith had scars. They were all over his knuckles from years of fighting, and one on his ankle where he’d gashed it on their first hoverbike ride.

But the number of them scattered over Keith’s pale forearms was downright  _ alarming.  _ There were dozens, some wide and flat like scrapes you’d get from hitting pavement. Others were thin and raised, cuts, some haphazard and obviously accidental, and others… not so much. 

Shiro’s stomach twisted. The images that had just popped into his head were ones he didn’t want to contemplate; Keith locked in a bathroom, treating injuries by himself. Sadistic foster parents or siblings taking their problems out on him. And possibly the worst one-- Keith taking a blade to himself, unable to see any other options. 

His reverie was broken by Keith. He’d noticed Shiro staring and yanked his sleeves down with a force that bordered on violence, and even though he had his face turned away, Shiro could still see the bright flush of shame on his cheeks. 

Shiro took a moment to compose himself, even though most of his brain was screaming to know what happened, who had hurt him, if he told anyone. As much as he wanted to protect Keith, he had to think about what Keith really needed from him. Not what would make Shiro feel better. 

“We don’t have to talk about it.”

Keith didn’t move, but Shiro saw his throat bob as he swallowed. 

“I won’t ask. We can talk about it if you want to, but I won’t push you.” 

Keith swallowed again. Slowly, he turned back to Shiro, who had to bite the inside of his cheek when he saw Keith’s expression. Where there had been joy a moment ago was now guarded and withdrawn, and it made Shiro’s heart ache.

“I don’t want to,” Keith mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

“Ok,” Shiro answered quickly. Keith shot him a suspicious look. 

“Really? That’s it?”

“That’s it,” promised Shiro. “I won’t ask about it again.” Then he added, “And I’m sorry.”

Keith frowned at him. “Huh? For what?”

“For staring. It was rude.”

His brow only furrowed further. “I really don’t get you sometimes.”

That managed to pull a laugh from Shiro’s throat, and when he didn’t feel him tense up again, he pulled Keith into another side hug. 

“That’s ok. One day you will.”

* * *

God, he fucking  _ hated  _ Zarkon. His sleep schedule was already fucked three ways from Sunday because of all the torture and gladiator fights, and now he’s chasing them down in the middle of the  _ fucking  _ night and not letting any of them  _ fucking  _ sleep. 

Ok, so Shiro was a little wound up. But could you really blame him? They were all crashing from exhaustion, Allura and Coran included. Keith and Lance were piloting their drones in their swim trunks, for fuck’s sake. 

“How many wormholes was that?” Hunk groaned, sounding nauseous. 

“Five,” Allura responded. She sounded absolutely wiped, and when Shiro turned around in his seat, she was holding herself up with the Castle controls. He got up, but Coran beat him to it, hustling over to catch her as her knees folded. 

“Please tell me it’s over.” Pidge had her face buried in her knees.

“We don’t know for sure,” Shiro said, and Pidge let out another pained sound. “I know. Maybe we’ve bought ourselves a few hours, though.”

“Screw the pool,” announced Keith as he stood. “I’m going to  _ sleep.” _

Lance looked like he was barely keeping his eyes open in the wake of his adrenaline crash. Still, he managed to say, “For once, Keith, I agree with you.” With a dramatic moan he hauled himself from his seat and bent to collect his discarded towel. 

Shiro looked back at his station. As tired as he was, maybe he should stay up. Just in case Zarkon locked onto their position again--

“Dude, what the hell happened to you?”

Lance sounded so alarmed that adrenaline kicked in again and Shiro spun on his heel, expecting to see one of the Paladins on the ground with a mysterious wound or something. But all he found was Lance, staring slack-jawed at Keith. 

“What?” Keith asked tiredly, and Shiro was right there with him. Until Lance pointed at him, and it finally clicked in Shiro’s tired brain. 

Keith wasn’t wearing a shirt, or his jeans. 

_ Shit.  _

Keith must’ve had the same thought, as he immediately went ten shades paler and dove for the towel on his chair. But it was too late-- the others had already seen, and all eyes were on him. 

He threw the towel over his shoulders, but it was a poor shield-- it only covered the circular marks on his shoulders, the ones that looked like they were made by cigarettes. All of the others were on display, even the thin white lines just above his right knee. 

The silence that descended on them then was suffocating. No one moved or said a word. They were all just standing there, staring at Keith, and Keith was staring back at them, wide-eyed. 

“Guys,” Shiro began, but at that same moment Lance picked his jaw up off the floor. 

“Dude, seriously, what the--” Lance looked Keith up and down, then pointed to a set of scars on his abdomen. Some Shiro didn’t recognize. “Is that a fucking bite mark?”

Keith instantly folded his arms over the offending scar, his cheeks flaming red. “I lost a fight with a coyote, ok?” His voice was shaky, a sure warning sign that he was about to make a run for it. But Lance didn’t know that. 

Lance cocked a hit and crossed his arms in a mirror of Keith’s defensive position. “A coyote? Aren’t those things like ten pounds?”

Even from across the room it was obvious how Keith was grinding his teeth. Pidge clambered out of her chair and went to Lance’s side, lightly touching his elbow. 

“They hunt in packs, Lance,” she murmured. 

“What were you thinking, picking a fight with a pack of coyotes?” exclaimed Hunk, looking scandalized. Allura and Coran were exchanging confused looks. Keith’s posture was drawing tighter and tighter, his eyes flickering between faces and doorways, numbering off exits. 

He was feeling cornered. Shiro tried again. 

“Guys, we really don’t need to--”

“They would sit around my house at night and howl,” Keith blurted out. “I-- I got sick of it.”

That made Lance laugh, oblivious to how Keith was shifting his weight onto his toes. “Man, I should’ve guessed. Leave it to Mullet to pick a fight with coyotes, of all things. Jesus Christ.” There was a slightly hysterical tone to his voice; the sleep deprivation was starting to affect him. “What about the other ones, you get in a fight with a window, too?”

Keith’s shoulders hunched and his chin dipped towards the floor. He was hiding his face, not wanting anyone to see his reactions-- which meant he was close to snapping. 

“Keith,” Shiro said, taking a few steps forward. But as soon as he got within arm’s length Keith went rigid and jerked away, bringing Shiro to a stop. His stomach whirled and churned; it could’ve been the exhaustion getting to him, but he was pretty sure it was desperation. Keith had learned not to show vulnerability years ago. Surviving alone in the desert for so long has only made him more self-reliant. And the longer the others kept him cornered like this the worst it would be when he made his move. 

“Some of those look like they hurt,” said Hunk. Keith turned his head even further away, towards the door. But Hunk didn’t know Keith’s body language like Shiro did, so he made the fatal mistake: he reached for him. 

Keith instantly recoiled, exclaiming, “Don’t  _ touch  _ me!”

Silence returned, everyone frozen in place; everyone except for Keith, who whirled and made a beeline for the door. No one stopped him, and he was gone in two seconds flat. 

The quiet remained for a few more seconds. Then, softly and with great feeling, Allura asked, “What the quiznack was that?”

Shiro sighed and ran a hand over his face. 

This was gonna be a looooooong night. 

* * *

The edges of Pidge’s vision were blurring from exhaustion. She hadn’t slept in… she didn’t even know how long. Zarkon still hadn’t caught up with them, and Shiro had told them to get some rest (translation: leave Keith alone) but she hadn’t gotten this far by following the rules and she wasn’t about to start now. 

She wasn’t surprised to find him in the Lion’s hangar, sitting behind Red’s particle barrier. 

“Hey,” she called from the door, trying not to sneak up on him. “Keith? You alive in there?”

Keith didn’t move or answer. So Pidge put her shoulders back, braced for some snappishness, and approached. 

Keith was sitting with his back to the barrier, knees pulled to his chest. Pidge studied him for a second, then sat down with her back to the barrier, putting them back to back. It was easier this way-- neither of them liked eye contact during things like this. 

“I’m sorry,” she began, “for how we all acted back there. I wouldn’t have liked being stared at either.”

Keith didn’t say anything. But Pidge was determined, so she cleared her throat and kept going. 

“Look, I get it. I was on my own for a while too. I didn’t know who I could trust. Thought I couldn’t trust anyone. Hell, I didn’t even trust you guys with my actual gender until we left Arus. So I get keeping secrets. And I won’t ask. It’s none of our business how you got those scars-- just like it’s none of our business how Shiro got his.”

There was a pause. She heard Keith shift. 

“I’m surprised.” 

Pidge leaned her head back against the barrier and closed her eyes. “About what?”

There were more shifting sounds, then, “That you said it. No one else is that blunt about them. Not even Shiro.”

Pidge huffed a barely-there laugh. “Well, you know me. No point in beating about the bush.”

“Hm. Yeah.”

Another brief silence… and Red’s particle barrier went down. Pidge turned around to find Keith angled towards her. Not looking at her, but she’d take what she could get. 

“Thank you,” he murmured, and Pidge allowed herself a real smile. 

“No problem.” 

Keith sighed, then finally turned all the way around. He was still in his swim trunks with the towel around his shoulders, knees still pulled up to hide the scars. “What about Lance and Hunk?” he asked. 

“Hunk already feels bad,” she answered, flashing a reassuring smile even though he wasn’t looking. “And I told Lance if he bothered you about it I would zap him with my bayard again.”

Keith didn’t laugh, but his lip did quirk, just a little. “Thanks.”

“Sure.” The silence returned, and with it the threat of awkwardness. She couldn’t have that. 

“Soooo…. A coyote, huh?”

This time he laughed. 

“Shut up.”

Pidge laughed with him. For a minute she considered giving his arm a playful punch, like she used to do with Matt, before she remembered how he’d reacted to Hunk and decided against it. Didn’t want to push her luck. 

The laughter softened the silence. They sat there together for a little longer, then Keith sighed and rubbed an eye with a fist. 

“Tired?” Pidge asked. 

Keith groaned. “That’s an understatement.”

“I feel you. We should head to bed-- Shiro wants us to get as much rest as we can.” 

That earned her a raised eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Does he know you’re talking to me instead?”

“No comment.”

Keith laughed again, and a warmth rose in Pidge’s chest. She’d come in here with the intention of making Keith feel better, less like a butterfly pinned under a microscope, and it seemed that she’d succeeded. Then she took a closer look and blinked. 

“Hey, are you cold? You’ve got goosebumps.”

“Oh,” said Keith, rubbing his arms. “Yeah, I guess I should put actual clothes back on, huh?” The sentence was followed by a self-conscious chuckle. 

Pidge got to her feet and raised her fingers to the ceiling, stretching. All of her muscles ached-- she really needed some damn sleep. 

“Come on,” she said, holding out her hand. “I’ll walk you back.”

For a second or two Keith just looked at her hand, considering. But then he took it and let Pidge pull him to his feet. 

“Thanks,” he said again, and Pidge smiled. 

“No problem.”

* * *

Talking to Pidge had made him feel better, but when they came upon the group of bodies huddled in front of his bedroom door, Keith felt all of his remaining energy drain away. He wasn’t mad at them, it was his own fault for being stupid enough to go to the bridge in his swim trunks. 

But he could predict how the conversation was going to go. Lance would ask more questions and poke fun-- maybe there would be some emo comments thrown in there. Hunk would fuss and fret. Coran would probably offer him a pod trip or a magical Altean cream or something to make them go away. Allura would just watch it all go down, maybe doing some lip service to responsibility and rest and watching out for Zarkon, all while she watched and marveled at the strangeness of human behavior. 

And Shiro. Poor Shiro, who always tried to take care of him even with so much already on his shoulders. He looked exhausted, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed, his metal hand shading them from the bright hallway lights. Keith had really, honestly thought that after all of this, Voltron, the arena, Keith getting kicked out of the Garrison; he really thought it meant Shiro would finally stop having to deal with all of Keith’s issues. 

He thought, after all that had happened, he’d be better at hiding them. 

The entire group looked up at the sound of footsteps. Allura opened her mouth as they approached, but Keith spoke first. 

“Look, guys, it’s late. Zarkon could lock back onto us at any moment. Let’s just go to bed.” He would’ve added an ‘and never speak of this again’, but that would be a wasted effort. Getting into a fight with coyotes was something he’d never live down-- especially not with Lance around. 

Lance moved forward, predictably about to ignore everything Keith said. He automatically folded his arms. It wouldn’t hide all of the scars, but it would cover some of them. 

But Lance didn’t say anything at first. He stood there for a moment, biting his lip and being awkward, then sighed. “Ok, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made such a big deal about it.”

Keith barely restrained the urge to roll his eyes. It was pretty obvious that he’d been told to say that, by Pidge or Hunk or Shiro or maybe all three. But some of his thoughts must’ve shown on his face, because Lance went from zero to offended real quick. 

“Hey, don’t look at me like that! I mean it! But,” he jabbed a finger at Keith, “I still meant what I said about the coyotes.”

“What he means is,” said Hunk, putting a hand on Lance’s shoulder, “that we didn’t mean to make you feel self-conscious. And we respect you if you don’t want to talk about it.”

Keith shot a disbelieving look at Lance, who stammered a few more incredulous things. Strangely enough, Keith felt like laughing. Maybe it was the sleep-deprivation getting to him. 

“It’s fine, guys. I just--” This time it was Keith who wanted to fidget, but with most of his usual outlets missing, he resorted to rolling the hem of his swim trunks between his fingers. “Don’t like to talk about it.”

_ Or think about it.  _

Hunk immediately nodded, and shot dagger eyes at Lance until he nodded, too. Shiro’s eyes met Keith’s over Lance’s head, giving a slightly amused smile. 

“Well then, now that that’s sorted,” said Allura with an attempt at cheerfulness, “I suggest we all get some sleep while we can. And,” her voice turned stern, “I mean actual sleep, not baking or swimming.”

The Paladins exchanged a look, then at the same time all droned, “Yes, Princess.”

Allura’s cheeks tinted pink, but they all knew she wasn’t really mad. Even Coran was hiding a smile behind a gloved hand. 

“Yes, yes, it’s very amusing. Get to bed.”

With a smile and rueful shake of his head, Keith turned to his door. Before he could step through, he felt a small hand touch his wrist, and looked down to see Pidge, watching him with a surprisingly sharp gaze for how deep the bags under her eyes were. 

“Are you sure you’re ok?” She asked, quietly enough that the others didn’t hear as they passed by. 

“Yeah,” Keith answered, surprised to realize that he meant it. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Pidge smiled. “Good. I’ll see you in the morning.” She gave his wrist a parting squeeze, then headed off down the hall.

Keith went into his room, and even ten minutes later as he climbed into bed, the smile lingered. 

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to take this time to thank Callaeidae3 and justheretobreakthings for beta-ing all the ridiculous amounts of fic I give them. They're the reason a lot of these fics have even slightly satisfying endings.


End file.
